WORTH IT
by more-like-reyna
Summary: "Malcolm would like to point out that his girlfriend looked extremely hot when she was pissed. And he would love to just nod and listen to her yell if she wasn't so close to murdering him." My first fluffy fanfic without any depressing angst.


**First of all, thank you so much to everybody who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited my stories. I would love to list out each and every one of you but I'm afraid I must let you read this story too. This plot bunny flew into my head suddenly, when I was supposed to be studying (of course, it happened when I was studying!). Let's just say I didn't really ship Malcolm and Rachel until I read **_**1oooWOrds**_**' "Say My Name" and I was hooked. **

**So firstly, thanks to my amazing beta-**_**Tempest Novastorm**_** who has somehow managed to put up with me and make my horrible first draft publishing-worthy. IOU! Secondly, **_**The queen of the dork people**_**-thank you for saving the crap I write and for being the first one to read this. Lastly to _1oooWOrds_-thank you SO much for giving me this wonderful ship. I love them so much now.**

**Disclaimer-Everything belongs to Uncle Rick. **_**"Damn! I wanna own Persassy. Ah well*sighs* On with the story…"**_

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Gods, this woman drove him mad. Not just normal mad, bonkers, infuriatingly, hair pulling level, freaking mad. But Malcolm would like to point out that his girlfriend looked extremely hot when she was pissed. And he would love to just nod and listen to her yell if she wasn't so close to murdering him.

Rachel hurled the plate in the direction of his head and Malcom instinctively dodged. That brought him back to reality.

"YOU!" He heard her yell, "I specifically told you, 'Malcolm, I'm tired and sleepy. Could you please clean my brushes, mop up the floor and remove the paint from the palette?' and you're all like, 'Mhmm-kay, honey.'" She crossed her arms, eyes practically blazing with frustration.

_Oh, here we go again._

"So imagine my surprise," she continued, " when I wake up to find that the brushes are still in the paint bottle, all the paint's dried up, the floor is a mess and my brushes are all RUINED!" She brandished a handful of paint-groped, clumped brushes and then threw said brushes in his direction.

He had screwed up yet again.

But Malcolm had trained at Camp Half-Blood most of his life and battle reflexes were coded into his DNA. So with all the finesse of a true Athena kid, he caught the brush - or tried to. He grappled with its handle between his hands before losing its grip, and it fell onto the floor a few inches in front of him. Cautiously, he picked it up, eyes still on his girlfriend, the wondrously annoying Oracle of Delphi.

She was fuming - he could see that. Her hair was mussed and frizzier than usual, as if she had just woke up - which she had. Her freckles blended into her flushed face.

He stood up, large brush in hand, stealing a glance at it. "I'm so sorry, babe. I really am. But can't you just buy them again?"

Rachel gave out a frustrated yell and looked around the kitchen of their cramped flat before a picking a mug she had got him as a joke that said ' 1 Daddy' and flung it at Malcolm.

The mug hit his elbow, shattered and left him groaning in pain and thinking, _I don't know why I put up with her! Jeez!_

"Buy them again? I had to specially beg Mr. Kavitz to import these brushes and paints from Britain! And they're shit expensive! Dad's threatening to cut my allowance, coz I'm not" – putting the words in air quotes - "allowed to waste his money in stupid conservational stuff. So how the actual heck am I supposed to contribute to the 'Save the Vaquita Porpoise' campaign if I have to buy them again?"

Malcolm only half-heard. He was too busy rubbing his throbbing elbow and being annoyed at Rachel. He half-wittedly said, "Gods! Are you on your period or something?"

He realized he was going to die the minute the words left his mouth. "Oh well! Goodbye Mom and Dad. Annabeth, I love you. Marry Percy soon. Your PDA is unbearable," he thought.

Rachel opened and closed her mouth like a fish struggling for air before she shrieked, "Malcolm, of all the effing misogynistic things to say! You absolute ass! I'm dating a chauvinist!" She gave a hysterical laugh before throwing everything her hands could reach-spoons, mugs, plates, a tissue roll, all the while muttering expletives.

Malcolm didn't really care. This was standard Rachel. She got pissed. She threw things (She definitely has some Latina and Italian blood. He should check.). Then they would make up, then make-out. So this was normal. Until it wasn't.

She probably didn't realize, but he did. She had picked up a steak knife and flung it at him. Time froze for a second and he could see the knife in mid-air and Rachel's stunned face as she juts realized what she had done. Then his ADHD kicked in and he dropped to the floor just as the knife flew above him and into the couch in the living room, just in front of the open kitchen.

After a few heartbeats, he slowly got up and looked at the sofa. The knife was lodged up to its hilt in the cushiony material.

He turned to face Rachel and said, "Do you have Latina or Italian blood? Just asking, you know."

But Malcolm never got his answer as Rachel hurled herself on him and buried her head in his chest, trembling. He pulled her close and gently patted her back while he murmured, "Hey, it's OK," into her ear. Only after a minute did he realize that she was crying.

He gently pulled away and looked at her. Rachel's nose was red and kind-of snotty. There were tear tracks all over her cheeks and his shirt _and his_jumper were wet. He lifted her chin to see her green eyes, usually filled with mirth and/or anger, swimming with tears.

Malcolm pecked her temple and asked, "Hey, what's wrong?"

She closed her eyes, tears falling and choked out, "I could've killed you!"

He gave a half-grin and said, "I've been in more dangerous situations, Red. I'm a demigod. Danger is kind of in the job description. Pull yourself together! Jeez!"

Rachel stood on her tiptoes, her lips only a centimetre from his and said, "But _I_ could've killed you and I would never be able to live with myself again."

He hugged her tightly and said, "But you didn't. That's all that matters."

She sniffed once, her face against his chest and nodded. After a while, they moved apart and she started keeping all the fallen items to their places. Malcolm cleaned up the "arty" mess in Rachel's studio while she removed the steak knife and threw away the broken pieces of the mugs and plates. When he came back, she was sitting on the kitchen floor, blowing her nose with a Kleenex.

He sat down next to her and quipped, "Real romantic, blowing your nose!"

She gently swatted his arm but cuddled closer. After a while, she placed a kiss on his collar-bone and whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry. I really am."

He kissed her back, right under her ear and said, "I know," She gave a little shiver before kissing him full on the lips. When she pulled away, she looked into his grey eyes with absolute conviction and said, "I love you, Malcolm Pace."

He smiled but wasn't fazed. He pulled her on his lap and stared into her beautiful green emerald orbs for a few seconds and then said, breathily, "I love you, Rachel Elizabeth Dare. To Tartarus and back," and kissed her like Gaia was going to wake tomorrow.

When he stopped, she was beaming so hard, flashing all her pearly teeth. Malcolm couldn't help it, he grinned too. Despite all the fights and the near-death encounters, if she smiled at him, because of him-like that, it was all worth it.

The next day evening, Malcolm rang the bell of his apartment with a huge paper bag in his hands. He had his own keys, but it was a Malcolm-Rachel tradition: She would come home early from art school, he would come home after his NYU classes and his shift at the public library was over. She would open the door; they would kiss, talk to each other, play a game-Jenga, Tag, Monopoly, whatever and then eat watching TV. It wasn't great or very romantic but it was them.

When she opened the door, she was wearing a dirty apron on her clothes and her face and hair had flour on them. She was baking to make up for yesterday. She only baked when she was upset or guilty. He hated that she still felt bad but she was giving him food, so he couldn't complain. He kissed her hard before walking in, the bag behind his back.

"I'm making muffins- " She started

"Which?"

She laughed. "Blueberry, duh. Oh, don't you love me so?" She wriggled her eyebrows mischievously.

He chuckled as her smile widened even more, "You know what? Don't answer that. You'll say that I'm annoying and I have a horrible temper-"

"I have something for you," Malcom interrupted, and she paused, raising an eyebrow in anticipation.

_Di immortales_, he loved the way her eyes sparkled as he said that. He handed her the bag and watched tentatively as she opened it.

She stared at the imported paints and brushes in confusion before jumping up and down yelling, "OH! MY! GODS!"

Then she jumped on him, pushing him down to the floor and kissed him open-mouthed. He gave in and they both made out for barely half a minute before she kissed him chastely and beamed with joy. "Best. Boyfriend. EVER!", she cried, punctuating every word with a kiss.

He was so lucky.

Rachel frowned, brow creasing." How did you buy them? They're really expensive and your college…"

He cut her off _again_ by kissing her, still smiling. He knew exactly how. It had taken the help of one eager-and-pumped-to-be-shadow-travelling-again Nico, one disapproving Will, one willing-to-help-my-OTP Hazel and one trip to Britain. He easily found the supplies through one of Chiron's contacts. So what if he had used up almost all his life savings; owed Hazel, Will and Nico a gazillion Happy Meals & owed Chiron a day as a sparring instructor _and_had bunked college (Mom was _so_ going to kill him!).

The smile on her face was worth it .

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**A/N: I know a lot of you are wondering how Rachel can date. Uncle Rick censored it but the Oracle's supposed to be a "maiden", if you get it. So, she can still date and go a few bases is what I feel. And well, I think at one point, Rachel would give up Oracle-dom (I know that's not a word!) but that's non-canon.**

**Also, I'm sorry if anyone's offended about the Latina or Italian blood. I just think they do behave like that. Please do mention it to me if you're offended or something. **

**And the 'Vaquita Porpoise' is a real thing. GUYS, there's only 10 of them left-IN THE WHOLE WORLD! Spread awareness wherever you can. We can't be the generation to witness the extinction of a species.**

**Again, thanks a ton to **_**Tempest Novastorm **_**for betaing. Also, just 5 more views for 'House of Cards' to hit 500 views. I hope I can get there by my one year writing anniversary-September 23. Wish me luck.**

**Finally, you know the routine. REVIEW! I love every single one even if it's a simple 'good'. Flaming sucks, so try not to. Constructive criticism appreciated.**

**Lots of Love,**

**more-like-reyna**


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